A Secret Surrender Read online

  A Secret Surrender

  Darcy Burke

  For Linda and Toni,

  quite simply because they are awesome

  Contents

  A Secret Surrender

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Also by Darcy Burke

  About the Author

  A Secret Surrender

  The Pretenders

  * * *

  Set in the world of The Untouchables, indulge in the saga of a trio of siblings who excel at being something they’re not. Can a dauntless Bow Street Runner, a devastated viscount, and a disillusioned Society miss unravel their secrets?

  A Secret Surrender

  A survivor of the mean streets of London’s East End, Selina Blackwell has learned to be a chameleon, and in her current iteration as a fortune-teller, she’s able to provide a Season for her sister. Only, Madame Sybila can’t be a chaperone, so Selina takes on another identity as the proper Lady Gresham. But when a Bow Street Runner takes too much of an interest in her business, it seems the crimes of her past will finally come to light.

  * * *

  Determined to prove that Madame Sybila is a fraud bent on fleecing London’s elite, Harry Sheffield enlists the help of the alluring Lady Gresham in exchange for introducing her to Society’s best. With his busy career and aspirations for the future, Harry has no time for marriage, but an affair is just right—until he discovers the lady’s disarming secret. Whatever his feelings for her, he can’t ignore who she is and who she’s been. And when she holds the key to the one case he couldn’t solve, he must choose justice or love.

  Don’t miss the rest of The Pretenders!

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  Darcy’s Duchesses for historical readers

  Burke’s Book Lovers for contemporary readers

  A Secret Surrender

  Copyright © 2020 Darcy Burke

  All rights reserved.

  * * *

  ISBN: 9781944576868

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Book design: © Darcy Burke.

  Book Cover Design © The Midnight Muse.

  Cover image © Period Images.

  Darcy Burke Font Design © Carrie Divine/Seductive Designs

  Editing: Linda Ingmanson.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Created with Vellum

  Prologue

  East London, 1801

  “More gin, girl!”

  Selina Blackwell moved to the table where the bottle of gin stood next to the man’s empty cup. He could have poured it himself, of course, but her boss, who was downstairs in the tavern, had told her to serve him up here in one of the private dining rooms. And no one went against Samuel Partridge.

  As she poured, the strong scent of the alcohol filled her nose. She forced air out to push the smell away. Unlike some of the other children, she didn’t drink the stuff. Her older brother Rafe wouldn’t allow it, even if she’d wanted to.

  After setting the half-empty bottle back on the table, Selina stepped back.

  “Where ye goin’?” The man, old enough to be her father, was filthy with bloodshot eyes and a crooked nose. He clasped Selina’s arm and pulled her back to the table. Though she wanted to jerk away, Selina knew better than to cause trouble.

  “Nowhere,” she replied quietly.

  “Stay where I can see ye,” he growled before taking a long drink of gin. Wiping his hand over his mouth, his small, dark eyes didn’t leave her. “Ye’re a pretty thing. How old are ye?” He picked up his goose pie and took a large bite.

  Selina shifted her weight, wishing she could at least move around to the other side of the table, but she didn’t dare. Her brother always told her to follow directions, stay quiet, and hopefully escape notice.

  “Eleven.”

  The man’s eyes widened. “That can’t be right. Ye look older than that. Don’t lie to me, girl.”

  Everyone assumed Selina was older than her years. She was tall for her age—much taller than any of the other girls in Partridge’s gang. She also had curves, primarily a bosom, that the other girls didn’t.

  “I don’t lie, sir. Mr. Partridge don’t allow it.”

  The man sat back in his chair and watched her as he used his tongue to try and clean the food from his yellowed teeth. His gaze raked over her crudely.

  Selina’s stomach turned.

  “Eleven, eh? Ye look fifteen, so I’m sure ye’re closer to that. Yer mama probably lied about yer age.” He squinted at her. “Do ye even have a mama?”

  Selina didn’t remember her or their father, but she’d been just two when they’d died. Rafe had been five, so he recalled small things, like the color of their mother’s hair and the kindness of their father’s voice. Selina only knew the man who’d claimed to be their uncle. He’d turned her and Rafe over to Partridge several years ago and disappeared.

  “My mother died a long time ago,” Selina said, keeping her voice soft but steady despite the fear racing through her. “It’s just me and my older brother.” She hoped mentioning him might make the man think twice about trying anything. Then for good measure, she said her boss’s name. “And Mr. Partridge. He takes care of us.”

  The man snorted with laughter. “Partridge don’t care for no one but hisself.” He pushed back from the table, the chair’s legs scraping against the battered wood floor.

  Selina’s body twitched with the urge to run. Hopefully he would just walk away. So far, they always had, even after staring at her the way he was. “It’s Partridge’s tavern,” she said, as if that would get the man to leave her alone.

  The man stood. Owing to Selina’s height, he was barely taller than her. “And Partridge sent ye up here to serve me.”

  “To serve dinner.” Selina tensed.

  “Ye know it’ll be more than that.” His thin lips spread in a grin, showing his disgusting teeth again.

  He stood between her and the door. She looked in that direction, her heart thudding. Mayhap she could shove him hard enough to get by and leave before he could catch her. Why had Partridge sent her up here with him? She’d served other men, but they’d always been more interested in the gin than her. Had Partridge set her up for something more? Her stomach twisted again.

  The man grabbed her bicep. “Don’t think about it.” He pulled her toward him until she crashed against his chest. Blowing out a fetid breath that
made her gag, he lowered his head.

  Sweat broke out on her nape and back as she reached for the bottle on the table. She didn’t think as her hand closed around the neck, and she smashed it against his head. The glass shattered and noxious alcohol splashed over both of them.

  Instead of letting her go, he shoved her backward, groaning as one hand went up to his head. “Silly bitch!”

  Off balance, Selina staggered as she tried to maintain her footing. The wall was just behind her. She was trapped. Except for the window, which was to her left. She glanced out past the crack that ran from one corner of the pane to the other. It was a long drop to the cobblestones below.

  The man moved toward her, his gaze menacing. “That’s right, back up against the wall, ye little whore. Lift yer skirts.”

  Her vision blurred. There was no one here to save her—no Rafe, none of the other children who might help her. Just this man who would take her and do as he pleased.

  She’d die before she let him do that. She shot another look at the window. Perhaps the fall would kill her. That would surely be better than the life she was living. No more hunger, no more fear, no more being forced to steal and scheme.

  “Do you mind if I open the window?” she asked calmly, even though her heart was pounding and she still couldn’t see right.

  He sneered. “Why, so ye can scream for help?”

  “No.” Screams were normal in this neighborhood, and no one cared. “I’d like some air. You smell.”

  The back of his hand stung against her cheek making her gasp. “Up against the wall now!” He reached for her, but she bent and dashed under his outstretched arms. She probably wasn’t going to make it, but if she didn’t try… She let out a sob.

  His hand grasped the back of her gown, pulling the fabric so that it rent down her back. Terror exploded inside her. She shrieked. He held onto the garment, but she reached wildly for the tabletop. If only she could find the knife.

  The man pushed her so that she bent over the table then stood behind her, pinning her so she couldn’t move her lower half. Frantic, she put her hands out in the hope of finding anything to use against him.

  “No, ye don’t.” He scattered the dishes from the table but not before she clasped the fork. Her palms were slick with sweat, but she closed her hand around the metal and stabbed him hard in the forearm below the edge of his rolled-up sleeve. He yowled and jumped back, the fork sticking from his flesh.

  She dove for the rickety chair, and swung it up then crashed it against him. The chair broke, and he fell back, teetering. Then his balance gave out.

  So did the window.

  The glass, already badly cracked, broke, and he fell. Selina raced to the window and watched as his arms and legs flailed briefly before he hit the cobblestones with a horrid snap. Dark blood oozed from the back of his head.

  Selina froze as the door behind her opened. Before she could turn, comforting hands were on her shoulders. She began to shake.

  “Shit,” Rafe breathed as he moved past her and looked down. He turned to face her. “I heard the noise, and I knew you were in here, so I came to check. Come on, we need to move.” He ushered her from the room, up a narrow staircase, then up another toward the tiny room they shared.

  “Partridge knows I was there too.” She was so cold, and it wasn’t just the fact that her gown was gaping in the back. The ice permeated to the very marrow of her bones. She doubted she would ever be warm again. “He sent me up to serve.” Quivering, she turned to face her brother as he guided her into their room. “Does he want me to whore?”

  “No,” Rafe said firmly as he pulled out the solitary bag they owned and began shoving her meager belongings into it. “He knows you’re too young.”

  “That man didn’t think so. I told him how old I was. He said it only mattered how old I looked.” Selina wrapped her arms around herself. “Partridge will expect me to whore someday. Mayhap today is that day.”

  Rafe, who at fourteen was somewhere between child and man, swore. He stopped and stared at her. “You can’t stay.”

  “Where will we go?” Her teeth were chattering.

  “Not we—you. I’ve been saving money. Partridge doesn’t know. I knew this day would come. I just didn’t realize it would be so soon.” He swore again.

  “What day?”

  “When you would have to leave.”

  She slowly shook her head and took a deep breath, trying to calm the shaking. “No. I won’t do that.” He was all she had.

  Rafe put the bag on her narrow cot and took her hands. Several inches taller, he towered over her as his eyes bored into hers. “Yes, you will. Forget what will happen to you if you stay, what almost happened to you downstairs, you just killed that man. Partridge may not be able to protect you from retribution.”

  “Partridge may be the one to seek it,” she whispered.

  Rafe’s lips pressed together. “There’s a school about fifty miles from here. I’m putting you on a mail coach. I already sent a deposit to save you a spot after the new year. Hopefully, they’ll admit you now.” He let go of her hands and went back to filling the bag. “Change your dress, Lina.”

  Feeling as though she moved in half-time, Selina drew the ruined garment over her head and donned the only other gown she owned. Then she tied her only bonnet beneath her chin.

  By the time she finished, Rafe had completed his task of packing her things and was now kneeling beside the dresser. He reached up under it and brought out a purse, which he handed to her. “Hide this—it’s the rest of what I saved.”

  Selina hefted the purse. “You said you’d hoped to save more.”

  “I’ll send more when I can. Or you can…you know.” He lifted a shoulder.

  She could steal. That was one of the few things she could do well.

  Like any good thief, she’d sewn secret pockets into her gown. Stashing the purse, she watched as Rafe swept his hat from a hook on the wall and crushed it over his bright blond hair.

  “Come, we must get you away quickly.” He reached for her, his hand closing around hers.

  “I don’t know if I can leave you.” Unshed tears burned her eyes.

  “Don’t cry, my sweet sister.” He smiled at her. “We’ll be together again. You’ll see. For now, this is safest for you. You trust me, don’t you?”

  She nodded, unable to speak past the knot of fear and grief in her throat. He was the only person she trusted.

  He stroked away the single tear that slipped down her cheek. “Please don’t cry. I can’t bear your sadness. It’s past time for you to be happy, and to do that, you must be far away from this life.”

  Selina took a deep breath and swallowed her tears. She followed him from the room, and they rushed down the back stairs as the alarm was raised about the dead man.

  They escaped into the narrow alley and raced through the slums they’d called home the past several years. Fifty miles away from here…Selina could scarcely imagine it. What would the air smell like?

  When they were a good distance from the tavern, she slowed to catch her breath. Rafe did the same, looking furtively behind them. “We must hurry,” he urged.

  “Why can’t you come with me?” Selina asked.

  “It’s a ladies’ seminary.” Rafe chuckled. “Pretty as I am, they won’t accept me.”

  She wanted to smile but couldn’t. “Then why can’t we go somewhere together?”

  “Where would we go? What would we do? At the school, you will learn. Perhaps you will become a governess even.” His tone had grown harsh, but now he lightened it once more. “Can you imagine that, Lina? You’d have a nice room, regular food, and a family to care for.”

  No, she couldn’t really imagine it. “That’s a dream, Rafe.”

  “Mayhap, but I’ve always told you that I would try to make your dreams come true, haven’t I?”

  “What about yours?”

  He shook his head and fixed her with a fierce stare. “I have a plan. Don’t you worry
about me. Ever. Promise?”

  She hesitated, and he squeezed her hand until it hurt. “Promise me, Lina.”

  “I promise I won’t worry,” she lied. If she couldn’t worry about her brother, what did she have left?

  He nodded encouragingly. “You’re stronger than you realize. You just protected yourself without my help. Don’t fret.”

  Yes, she had. And she’d killed a man. The persistent cold intensified.

  “We’ll be together again,” he repeated. “Sooner than you think.”

  Selina would look forward to that day, and until then, she’d do whatever she must to survive.

  Chapter 1

  London, April 1819

  Harry Sheffield, constable for Bow Street, opened the door of The Ardent Rose on The Strand near Drury Lane. He’d been told he would find Madame Sybila at a perfume shop in this area, and since he didn’t know of any others, this had to be the place.

  A myriad of scents assailed Harry as he walked into the shop. There was definitely rose, but also other floral fragrances, as well as spice and a variety of smells he couldn’t quite identify. It was a bit like listening to a quartet warm their instruments before playing an actual song. It wasn’t terrible, but the cacophony wasn’t entirely pleasing either.